Care For
by bellakitse
Summary: Derek has checked in on the rest of his pack, there's one left. Set after episode 2.08.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Care For  
Category: Teen Wolf  
Ship: Derek/Stiles  
Genre: General/Pre-Slash  
Rated: T  
Word Count: 1216  
Summary: Derek has checked in on the rest of his pack, there's one left. Set after episode 2.08.

A/N: A birthday present for the wonderful and talented Ali , who kindly holds my hand when I start flailing over Sterek.

As always thanks to my beautiful beta Crystal, any mistakes are my own.

* * *

… … …

It's late into the night or maybe early into the morning, he guessed it depends on how you look at it when he finds himself slipping into the Stilinski household, pausing for a moment on the window sill of Stiles bedroom. Breathing in deep he cocks his head as he listens. One heartbeat slow and steady downstairs, the kitchen, the Sheriff more than likely passed out at the dinner table if the smell of whiskey in the air is anything to go by. Another heartbeat louder and slightly faster in the room with him, awake but not scared like other times when he's broken in.

"You know you make the dog jokes easy when you tilt your head like that," he gets instead of a greeting.

It's a testament to his tiredness that he doesn't growl at the teenager. His eyes simply flash red for a moment but not enough to even spook the kid. Instead he drops at Stiles desk chair, the only light on in the room is the lamp next to the computer giving the rest of the room a soft glow as shadows bounce around them.

"Scott is okay," he says after a moment of unusual silence between them, it's so rare that Stiles isn't running his mouth, he would have thought he would welcome it, instead of breaking it.

"I know," he gets in return from the bed where Stiles hasn't moved other than to look in his direction, another first since this is the most at ease he's ever felt Stiles be in his presence, maybe it just goes to show how tired he is too. "Thanks for taking care of him."

He starts and wonders if there will be a day when the human before him will stop surprising him. "He's pack now," he gets out. "It's my job to care for him."

Stiles lets out a huff of laughter, another surprise. "You're going to be busy then, taking care of Scott is a 24/7 kind of job, good luck with that."

He presses his lips into a thin line to hide the small smile that threatens to break through but allows the momentary camaraderie to continue. "It's your job too, we can break into shifts."

"Can I get weekends off?" Stiles continues and Derek can hear the smile in the words. "Paid vacations?"

"Do you have a union?" he asks dryly.

"International Association of Werewolf Wranglers," Stiles proclaims trailing off when he lets out a small growl in warning. "Too much?"

"When isn't it too much with you, Stiles?" he asks, frowning when instead of a laugh or a comeback, the room once again fills with silence, the air smelling like remorse.

"I'm sure you're not the only one that feels that way tonight," Stiles answers so quietly that if it wasn't for his enhanced hearing he wouldn't have been able to make it out.

"Stiles?" he questions, his fist clenching at the hopelessness in the teenager's voice and the way it causes the wolf inside him to move restlessly. When he decided to check in with Stiles tonight it had been his wolf that had pushed him forward.

After securing Scott, he'd gone to find the rest of his pack. Boyd had been shot, Isaac and Erica along with Stiles had dealt with Jackson and he needed to make sure they were okay. Arriving at their hideout he'd found his three wolves resting and well, all healed up already. The question must have shown on his face because Isaac had simply answered. "Stiles took care of us before he went home."

And that, the knowledge that the boy in front of him now had taken the time to make sure the others were okay had made him seek him out, the last member of his pack and obviously the one that wasn't okay.

"They fired my dad and it's my fault," Stiles finally answers and it's so full of self-reproach and self-loathing that it has him moving before he even realizes it. Crossing the room; he sits at Stiles side on the bed, his hands on either side of him.

"Don't," he says sternly, not even sure what he's commanding, he just knows he doesn't want to hear that tone in Stiles voice, doesn't want to smell the guilt in the room.

Stiles looks up at him with wide eyes, his heart speeding up just a bit, a slight hint of fear permeating the air, still he pushes on. "It is though."

"It's not."

"It doesn't look good when the sheriff's son is a criminal who steals police property and has a restraining order against him," Stiles answers with a bitter smile, like he's remembering a past conversation.

"You're helping keep people safe."

Stiles shakes his head. "Most people wouldn't agree with you."

"Most people are idiots," he answers bluntly, moving back as Stiles sits up. "You helped us tonight."

Stiles lets out a sound of frustration, running a hand over his face. "It didn't work, Jackson and whoever is controlling him, we didn't catch them."

"Not because of you and your magic dirt," he says the flash of a smile on his lips when Stiles snorts. "That worked."

"That was kinda awesome," Stiles concedes grinning.

"You took care of the pack tonight," he continues, the words coming easier than he would have thought. "Fixed them up when they got hurt- thank you."

Stiles looks at him with an unreadable expression and then shrugs as he looks away, the caution in his words clear. "It's what we do right?"

Derek doesn't answer, instead he looks at the boy in front of him, his head to the side exposing his neck to him without realizing what it could mean to him as the Alpha and in that moment he realizes how close they are since Stiles sat up on the bed. Facing each other, their thighs pressed against the other, there isn't much space between them. "Yeah," he says softly reaching out with the hand he still has on the bed, his fingers brushing against the hand Stiles has at his side, studying him when he looks back at him surprised. "I guess it is."

Stiles opens his mouth and then closes it again, licking his lips, eyes blown wide as he takes him in tracking the movement. "W-why are you here Derek?"

Stiles heart skyrockets for him to hear. "Taking care of my pack."

It skips.

"Am I pack?"

"Yes," he answers, pushing Stiles back on the bed as he stands, his hands lingering for a moment before he forces himself to take a step back towards the window. "You're pack." He ignores the wolf when it whines in his head '_More_'.

He has a leg out the window when Stiles calls out his name.

"Something just happened here."

He should deny it, ignore it, if he doesn't give voice to it, it won't matter, but he can feel Stiles tension and hesitation hitting him in the back, ready for rejection. "Yes."

The breath Stiles lets out is audible; the tentative hopefulness in the air causes his wolf to hum with satisfaction.

"When we've both gotten some rest we'll continue this," Stiles says through a yawn.

The wolf grumbles happily and he allows himself a smile. "Okay."


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: They finish their conversation

* * *

Derek hears the jeep coming down the street before it reaches him, sitting inside the broken down train he listens as the jeep comes to a stop, the slight scratching of Stiles beat-up sneakers against the asphalt, the sound of metal rattling as he slides through the opening at the old fence gate.

"Are there werewolves in the house?" Stiles calls out dragging out the last word ridiculously as he walks into the abandon train station. "I bring breakfast, Sourwolf!"

Rolling his eyes at the nickname he tell himself it's still just as annoying as the first time he heard it and almost believes it.

"Morning bossman," Stiles greets him with a cheerful smile, a vast difference from the distressed young man from last night. It's a trait that baffles Derek, Stiles ability to, for the most part, shake off his troubles and keep moving. He knows that deep down it isn't Stiles forgetting for a moment his pain and hardships but instead it's a determination to not let them darken every part of him. It's a talent Derek secretly envies.

"I bring breakfast burritos for you and your pups," Stile continues holding out one of the bags he carried. "Where _is_ the leather trio?"

He gives him a mild glare which Stiles answer with another cheery smile.

"Erica and Boyd went home, Isaac went with them for a while," he answers, staring at him intently when he hears a bleep in Stiles heart rate.

"Oh," Stiles says hesitantly, his smile unsure for a moment.

Staying silent Derek raises an eyebrow at him.

"Those things have their own language," Stiles muttered dryly crossing the threshold of the train coming down to sit on the floor next to him, digging out a wrapped bundle out of the bag. "Well, since your protégées aren't here that means more food for us."

Stiles drops a burrito in his hands and takes out another one for himself. "I got us orange juice, I was going to bring coffee but I wasn't sure how you take it and figured a little vitamin C never hurt anyone, a big strong Alpha like yourself and your growing wolves could use with some nutriments, cause I'm sure you guys aren't eating the daily requirement of fruits and vegetables, though I guess bringing you burritos for breakfast isn't the healthiest-"

"Do you seriously never stop babbling?" he interrupts in amazement at the amount of words Stiles is able to fit into a sentence without a breath in between.

Stiles scratches the skin over his eyebrow with his thumb, his mouth slightly open as he looks at him strangely. "Uh, no? I mean, have you met me? I babble, I babble like the wind. I go for gold in babble, each and every time. I have no competition; I am the Muhammad Ali of babble."

"_Stiles"_

"You get gold for managing to fit 'I'll rip your throat out with my teeth' threats into just my name, that's a special skill right there."

"You're nervous," Derek replies paying no heed to the previous comment. "Why are you nervous?"

Stiles flaps his hand between them, narrowly avoiding hitting himself in the face. "What makes you think I'm nervous?"

"The non-stop talking-"

"I just told you I'm-"

"The Muhammad Ali of babble, yeah," Derek interrupts him, rolling his eyes and leans in close to Stiles neck to breath him in, not acknowledging the squeak Stiles lets out when his nose brushes against his skin, his gut clenching at what he finds there. "You smell nervous and your heart is pounding so fast and hard I'm starting to think medical attention is needed."

"You just made a joke," Stiles accuses with narrowed eyes when he pulls back.

He nods, his lips twitching. "It's been known to happen once in a full moon."

"You just made another one!" Stiles points at him, a wide smile taking over his face.

"Stiles," he pauses leaning in close again to take another whiff.

"You don't just smell nervous, you smell," he looks up, Stiles face close to his, the teen's brown eyes blown wide and plush pink mouth parted. "_Oh_."

"Oh my god," Stiles mumbles into his hands and Derek has the pleasure to see a blush working its way over Stiles skin. His satisfaction in being the cause of it, surprising even him.

"About last night," he starts not sure how to continue. He had left the Stilinski home the night before content, his wolf at peace for once. There had been a shift between him and the human next to him, so subtle but important.

"I couldn't sleep after you left," Stiles blurts out, lowering his hands from his face, staring at him slightly frantic. "I mean it makes no sense, we don't trust each other, although, honestly, I think that's bullshit, more like we don't want to trust each other but can't really help it. We don't like each other much, I annoy the crap out of you and guess what buddy you annoy the crap out of me right back. We should make no sense. We shouldn't even be able to be _friends_."

"But?" Derek prompts, knowing there's more.

"_But_ that doesn't seem to _matter_," Stiles continues almost irritated. "I still think about you way more than I should for someone I can't stand. I shouldn't be getting nervous when you get close to me for any other reason than fear and you really don't need to tell me that the nervousness you smell on me isn't fear based, trust me I already know that or tell me whatever else you're smelling on me."

"Stiles-"

"Which I would like to point out isn't really my fault, I'm a teenage guy," Stiles rushes "And you look the way you do, so of course you're going to smell what you smelled on me."

"You done?" he asks dryly when Stiles pauses.

Stiles shrugs. "I'm never really done, but go ahead."

"I thought about you after I left, too," he starts. "And I also think about you more than I should."

He pauses as Stiles lets out a breath, shifting on the floor next to him, he doesn't comment when it closes the small gap between them, leaving them pressed against each other from shoulder to thigh.

"You've saved my life a couple of times and even though it's not exactly my strong point, I do find myself trusting you." He looks at the teen who is watching him silently while he worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks away again, the sight distracting. "You _are_ annoying." He smiles slightly as Stiles lets out a huff that sounds a bit amused. "But I'm not a ray of sunshine myself."

"Things that are obvious for 500, Alex," Stiles mumbles.

"You're a smartass with a smart mouth," Derek growls out, more out of habit than actual irritation. "But I also keep coming back for more, so what does that say about me?"

"You're twisted?" Stiles offers.

"You get hot for twisted."

Stiles lets out a high-pitch sound. "I-"

Derek just looks at him and taps the side of his nose.

Stiles groans, tilting his head back to rest against the wall of the train. "Stupid werewolf super noses, it's an unfair advantage."

Derek doesn't bother answering; instead he lets his eyes wander over the elegant line of Stiles neck, admiring the fair skin, pausing to study each mole and freckle on the tempting skin. His and his werewolf's needs making it impossible for him to stop at just looking. He leans in slowly, knowing Stiles can feel him shift closer even when he's still looking up and away from him, giving him enough time to pull away if he wants to. The skin shudders under his tongue as he traces invisible lines from one mole to another. Stiles lets out a soft whine that he echoes as Stiles brings a hand to his hair, fisting it as he holds him to his skin.

"You rile me up, but you calm my wolf," he speaks into the skin. It's true, the more he touches Stiles, the closer he is to him, the calmer his wolf becomes, so happy right now, Derek could almost hear it purring in his ear.

"Really?" Stiles pulls back, looking back at him with a small smile on his face. "So I'm like your-"

"Don't," he warns knowing it's useless.

"Your Allison," Stiles teases, letting out a loud shout of laughter when he growls.

He shakes his head when it has no reaction other than more giggles. "You were right; I must be twisted to be subjecting myself to this."

Stiles grins, his eyes still dancing with amusement. He pulls a smile from him as he radiates with pleasure. "We've established it gets me hot so we're good."

"Yeah," he begrudgingly agrees. "We should eat, it's getting cold."

Stiles nods as he takes a bite and as Derek does the same he feels Stiles slip his hand into his, giving him a cautious side glace.

There is still so much to go over and not just with what they're starting here, there's Jackson and whoever is controlling him, Allison's mother trying to kill Scott and the ripple effect that is sure to cause. Things are coming for them from all sides.

But as Stiles grins at him through another mouthful when he gives the hand a small squeeze he silently agrees with Stiles once more.


End file.
